


Feathers and Distractions

by FactoryKat



Series: The Mages' Champion and the Healer's Hope - The Wyatt Hawke Collection [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Bottom Anders, Custom Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Feathers & Featherplay, Fluff and Smut, Happy Anders (Dragon Age), M/M, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Male Slash, Mild Smut, Purple Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 23:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: Having a live-in boyfriend like Anders has its many benefits and quirks. In which Hawke knows just how to be an excellent distraction.





	Feathers and Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> MILD SMUT WARNING - if the tags weren't enough of a giveaway. This is also a slight remix of another piece I wrote "Distractions" but I expanded upon it and well, it took a turn for the spicy. Enjoy!

Feathers, crumpled sheets of paper, the odd strand of blonde hair - Wyatt Hawke could find any number of these things around the estate at any given time and in no particular order. Certainly never all at once. Sometimes he found them in pairs, sometimes individually. Orana, on more than one occasion, had complained about feathers in the kitchen. The visual made him laugh, but the thought warmed his heart. Little signs of Anders' presence within the estate served as a reminder that he was always just within reach here, safe and protected from the ever-growing list of threats within the city. Hawke followed the unintended trail leading him through the den and into the study where light from both candles and fireplace flickered, casting lapping shadows at the wall.

There he found his better half on the lounge, twisted into some undignified shape of long limbs, disheveled hair, and paper. His coat and feathery pauldrons were draped limply over the desk, and his boots lay discarded by the door, leaving him only in tunic and trousers. Hawke's breath hitched upon being greeted by the sight of this beautiful mess of a man, one he considered himself damned lucky to have.

"Well, I can't say that looks comfortable, but I've been wrong before." 

Anders only tilted his head backward, staring upside down at his lover with subdued surprise. "Oh-" he scrambled to sit up, nearly falling off the lounge in an oddly graceful heap, but he accomplished what looked visually impossible. "I didn't hear you come in."

"You know," Hawke started to say as he slid onto the chaise beside Anders. His position offered unfettered access to slip both arms around a waist narrow both by way of genetic lottery and years of a poor diet. Any tension present in his partner's frame melted away as Anders sunk against him, back pressing into his chest. It was something he did almost subconsciously these days. "I'm beginning to wonder if you aren't actually possessed by the spirit of a  _ cat _ instead." The sharp, minty scent of elfroot, along with the smell of parchment and that of fresh ink, filled his nose as he squeezed a little tighter. 

Anders's sudden laughter shook both of them, and he finally lowered his work to acknowledge him. "What are you talking about?" 

Hawke presented his findings - the few stray feathers he'd gathered on his little scavenger hunt moments ago. "You're shedding, love." He turned his head to pepper his lover's neck with soft kisses, leaving a trail from his collar bone to his ear. He felt Anders shudder involuntarily beneath him, followed by a soft moan.

"Wyatt," he said in a controlled voice, attempting to continue reading over the manifesto pages still clutched in his hands. Hawke didn't relent, this time doubling his efforts to keep Anders's attention as one hand strayed from his waist to his inner thigh, causing the blonde mage to squirm. "You're distracting me."

"Mmhm. Is it working?"

An indignant snort was the only reply, one which Hawke decided wasn't enough. "I'll take that as a challenge then." Untangling himself from the other man, he slid off the lounge and collected Anders, lifting him as though he weighed nothing at all.

"Honestly! It's amazing that I get any work done around here at all sometimes." It was difficult to argue when one was being carried away by a man who was half a head taller and physically stronger by a fair margin, but Anders was only half-serious in his protests. 

He felt his mouth curl into a grin, boasting his desire very plainly. "Oh, I'll put you to work all right."

"Well, when you put it like  _ that _ ," Anders quipped as they climbed the steps - Hawke taking every caution not to trip and fall - and eventually breached the bedroom. 

He knew of its importance and that Anders's time spent working on the manifesto was precious. It was not uncommon to come home and find Anders here, rather than still at the clinic, wrapped up in a frenzy of writing and correcting. Tonight was a little different. Hawke had tested the waters and found them inviting, so he knew he needed to take advantage of the golden opportunity.

Some distractions were simply necessary, after all. 

For Anders, the transition from his arms to the bed would be a smooth exchange, with Wyatt possessing enough grace to shrug out of his house robe, shed what layers he could and easily slip back. His hands lead the charge sliding right underneath his partner's loose tunic and continued in one motion to lift it right over his head. Grasping hands were trapped in the bunched fabric, feeding into impish delight. Anders's annoyance only vaguely registered with him. Instead, it was taken into consideration and promptly disregarded in favor of letting his own hands map out the lines of the mage's lean, exposed body. Freckles dotted fair skin like stars in patterns only discernible to Wyatt, who traced lines with the tip of his tongue and kissed constellations into existence.

The squirming body beneath him was enough encouragement to continue, and lips grinned with mischief against a hip just above the ridge of Anders' breeches. "Oh? You enjoying that then?"

A repressed gasp and stifled groan were his answers. He was on the right track. He palmed his lover's covered groin in a firm but careful motion while the other hand curled itself around one leg to give him leverage and bring Anders  _ to _ him. The kisses ceased as he caught the trouser strings in his teeth, giving them a sudden tug. To swallow a laugh while keeping one's composure was difficult, but he won the fight. 

"Oh,  _ that's  _ how this is going to go, then?" The strain in the man's voice was unmistakable, and again Wyatt battled the urge to laugh about it. 

Chuckles escaped nonetheless when he paused. "Is that a protest I hear? Should I stop now?" He teased. He always teased, but it was their game. Cat and - well perhaps not a mouse, but the analogy was less critical as Anders' frantic reply.

" _ Maker, no!"  _

"Good." 

Mercy was granted,  _ for the moment _ , as Wyatt's hands traveled further north. Tiny, harmless sparks of lightning danced across flushed skin, where he dragged his fingers along his lover's ribcage, making him writhe with each touch.

"Please don't stop-" Hawke's mouth silenced the breathless plea after suddenly abandoning his previous venture. Their breath mingled as his tongue pressed at the seam of lips, gently coaxing them open, granting him access. Sheer desperation to touch Hawke meant that Anders' hands slipped out of their soft constriction. He grabbed at any part of his lover that he could all while Wyatt busied himself with exploring and tasting the cooling bitterness of lyrium and the hum of Fade energy that he always associated with the healer.

Nimble digits played at his hips briefly before drifting to his hips and thighs, eventually settling on his rear. Fingers squeezed and pulled a husky laugh from Hawke, who stole a moment to compose himself. He resumed, this time brushing lips across a pale throat and along his jawline towards Anders's ear where teeth gently grazed the delicate skin. Warm breath tickled the fine hairs along his neck, and his lover's frustrated groan was close in his.

"You're teasing me, love.  _ Please _ ," Anders begged with clear need in his voice. Hands were on his head now with their long, lean fingers tangling themselves in his hair. He felt a force pushing him away, pushing him  _ down _ , and he released a snicker. 

"Someone's eager," but all he got in return was a huff. All the same, Hawke allowed Anders to guide him where he wanted, willing to satisfy his partner's urging.

His hands traced the lean muscle on his partner's body as they traveled downwards once again until he reached the hem of Anders' trousers and smalls. Inch by inch, he tugged them off before his lover grew frustrated with the pace. 

"What are you-" but coherent words devolved into breathy moans when Hawke pressed his lips to one scar and then another, one of them a distinctively angry, twisted mark on Anders' pale torso nestled amongst a cluster of freckles. 

Hawke knew some of their stories - they were a map to a life before this moment - but that one remained shrouded in mystery. It carried a story his lover was hesitant to share. He kissed each mark and welt tenderly as if he could somehow steal away the memories of pain and anguish associated with them. 

A shudder pulled his gaze up to see closed eyes and a lip pinched between teeth. "I can stop-"

"No!"

Wyatt's smile was gentle at first before enthusiasm turned it into a small grin. The guiding hands moved from his head to his shoulders, where they clutched fervently, digging in as his mouth continued along the trail from navel to groin, deliberately avoiding the stiff erection just there that stirred with need. Gingerly he parted his beloved's legs, planting kisses both firm and feather-light along his thighs and every other inch, leaving no crevice untouched. There was an audible gasp when he finally gave his partner what he had been aching for, taking the length of him slowly at first before it became more involved. It developed as an effort to overwhelm his senses for several minutes, with Hawke utilizing his mouth, tongue, and hands to bring him every step closer to release. 

"No. Not yet." He halfway whispered, ceasing his attentions and lifting his head. He expected a protest, but his lover's frustration came through in a fervid groan and made him chuckle with a wicked sort of delight. 

"I hate you-"

"No, you don't." His lips pulled tighter the more he found amusement in tormenting the poor man.

The sigh Anders released was passionate and  _ impatient. _ "No, I don't. But I am about to if you don't continue."

A warm, honeyed chuckled bubbled up from his throat as a reply to Anders' indignation. "You can be awfully bossy sometimes." Hawke was enjoying this too much to see it end so quickly. 

With but a simple flick of his wrist towards the fireplace, he extinguished the crackling flames and plunged the bedroom in darkness. Only a startling gasp pierced the enveloping black. Otherwise, silence blanketed the space but for the sound of his partner's breathing that quickly went from steady to anxious. His hand searched off to the right and was successful in its hunt. He plucked a feather from the small, odd collection he'd gathered earlier and tapped the soft tip to his lover's chin.

"Hawke, love, what are you doing-"

"Shhh."

A whispered scoff was his response. Wyatt snickered and resumed, this time calling up a small amount of magic to his fingertips and lips. His mouth formed a soft O as he exhaled, and a chilled breath rolled out. One hand grazed fingers down along his partner's torso leaving behind a thin trail of ice. The body beneath him jolted with the sudden sensation and again as he brought chilled lips to leave cold kisses at varying intervals. The pointed quill of the feather made circles on the untouched skin of Anders's waist and along his hips, making him arc his back ever so slightly. Switching tactics, Wyatt felt a warmth surface and replace the frost. He ducked his head again, and his tongue left heated sparks where there had been cold. Luminescent blue coursed upwards through Anders' torso just briefly. Hawke's eyes flicked upwards in momentary panic, thinking the worst. Swallowed curses came out in between gasps and relieved his fear.

While unexpected, it didn't deter him. Lightly he dragged the soft downy body of the feather across skin that had been both cooled and warmed, earning a pleasant sigh. He continued to leave behind kisses where the feather touched, not yet having lost their warmth. With a practiced pace, he continued downwards again, grazing the thin trail of fine blonde hairs down his lover's torso and pelvis that lead the way. He found his head between pale thighs once more and resumed from where he previously left off while making use of his hands to massage and knead tender flesh.

After several more minutes of pleasure, Wyatt again refrained from bringing his lover to the very edge, making Anders curse in his frustration through rapid breaths.

"Scoot." He commanded more than requested, and though he made a rather indignant sound, Anders acquiesced by pulling himself higher up onto their bed to give the other man room. Before long, he had climbed on top and carefully positioned himself all without somehow breaking the immersion and dragging his mouth up along the way.

They tangled together intimately, and the next hour passed in a euphoric haze. 

* * *

Once the fog of pleasure lifted, the two of them unfurled from one another, though Anders's escape was not first without a drowsy Wyatt nuzzling his neck.

"Hngh, not yet. Come back." Hawke tried to appeal to his partner, despite knowing they ought to clean up."

"I'll draw the bath, come on." 

"Hmm...fine." he murmured and peeled himself away from the soft sheets, letting himself be led by the hand towards the washroom.

It didn't take long for water to fill the oversized tub, and they quickly shed layers in favor of soaking in the warm, inviting bath. There was a surprise to be had as Anders climbed in first and reclined against one end. 

"Come here," his lover beckoned with a gentle yet coltish smile. 

Who was he to turn him down? Wyatt did as asked and settled into the bath, propping himself against the much leaner mage. The difference in height between them was marginal, but where Anders was slender (though still deceptively muscular), Hawke himself was a little more brawny. That didn't seem to matter much, though, not when arms snaked around his waist quite comfortably. 

Between the sensation of deft hands helping him wash, to the soothing heat of the water, he found it challenging to avoid dozing off. Eventually, he leaned further into Anders, who was content to let him and closed his eyes.

"Love?" he vaguely heard the man whisper. 

Hawke only muttered a sleepy "Hmm?" in response.

He felt, rather than saw, Anders shake his head and his chest shudder with chuckles. "Nothing. Just relax."


End file.
